My Boys
by panicpeachpit
Summary: Multi-chapter fanfiction. From Emilie Groome's point of view. Her two sons were snatched from her at a very young age, leaving her alone and heartbroken. After nearly 3 decades of pining for them, she finally gets to see her sons again in her last moments. Rated T for Depression and inevitable death. Emilie listed as OC.
1. Sunday

**Chapter 1) Sunday**

 _(My rambles are at the bottom. I hope this first chapter is enjoyed!)_

 _Note: Michael (Ethan) is 2 and Steven (Caleb) is 4. Emilie Groome is their mother._

Emilie Groome perched on the edge of the stool, her head propped up by her hand as her eyes stared blankly into the distance. That was how she stayed most days. Barely finding the energy to get dressed sometimes, although this morning she'd managed to pull on a vest, jumper and jeans so she looked half decent.

"Mummy? Muh-mmy?" Clamoured a voice, desperate for attention. She blinked, and then moved her head to see who was talking. It took a lot of effort to even move from that space, zoned out.

"Mmm-hmm?" She murmured, meeting the eye of her oldest, Steven. He smiled at her affectionately.

"Me and Mikey are hungry, can we have lunch now?" Steven asked, giving her his best big eyes. Lunch. Dammit, she'd forgotten about that. Again. If she lived on her own she'd probably end up starving and become a skeleton on the floor because she constantly forgot about meals.

"Mummy?" He asked again. Emilie realized she'd gone deep into thought again. Pull yourself together, she told herself firmly.

"Yeah, sorry, love. Let's make lunch then, baby boy." She smiled. It made her mouth hurt but she did it anyway, ruffling his beach blond hair which was cut short. He always managed to look extremely cute.

She walked over to the fridge and pulled it open, peering in distaste at the few contents. A jar of pickles, a tub of hot dogs which no longer looked edible, bruised apples and a old chicken dinner wrapped in cling film that was going green. Definitely not suitable for the children, she decided sensibly.

"Um...let's go shopping for lunch, shall we? Go and find your brother for me." She said, already feeling overwhelmed by the task ahead. Steven rushed to the other room to find Michael. She scraped her hair back, sighing. She felt sick to the stomach at the tiring thought of going out of the house, her sanctuary, the one place she felt safe and comfortable.

The childish laughter coming from the other room made her smile a little and her anxieties fade slightly.

"What are you little monkeys up to?" Emile asked, a grin creeping over her face when she saw the tickle fight her boys were involved in. Michael was laughing so hard he'd turned red, Steven's fingers scrabbling all over his tummy and smiling widely, giggling to himself.

"Help!" Michael squealed. She scooped him up, and pinched Steven's nose playfully.

"Come on, my boys, let's go to the shops, eh?" She said, placing Michael on the ground and letting them rush to find their shoes. Steven helped Michael as he was the oldest, even though he was only four himself. Emilie put their coats on them, buttoning them up. It was quite cold out, despite it not being Winter yet, it was still chilly outside.

"W-eady!" Michael said, standing up and immediately reaching for his big brother's hand. Steven held on tightly, forever looking after his little brother.

"Let's go then!" She said, letting them lead the way. She closed the door behind her, checking it was locked thrice, and then turned to see her boys already half way down the path.

They lived in quite a safe area. It was a tight place, named Eldwick Close, and their house was squashed by many others attached. The road wasn't too busy, but all the same, she rushed forward and made sure they were safe. The off-licence was only five minutes away, she told herself. She could cope, she could cope. She was a good mum, she muttered to herself.

They reached the off-licence quite quickly, as the boys seemed determined to race each other the whole way, causing Emilie's heart to race as she ran awkwardly close to them, just to make sure.

Hot air flew in their faces as they entered the tightly packed off-licence. Steven grabbed a basket with wheels, which Michael also wanted, so they tried to tear it off each-other until Emilie stopped them.

"Look, behave, please? Just...share it! Michael, you hold there, and Steven, you hold there." She begged them. Luckily, the boys were happy to oblige when she bribed them with chocolate.

She dropped bread in carelessly, and a pack of cheese as Michael seemed to like it, and then some butter and chocolate spread. She grabbed some cartons of juice also, as it was easier for them to drink. Steven supposedly hadn't quite gotten the hang of straws yet, he blew rather than sucked, because he found the bubbles funny.

"Mummy?" Steven asked, tugging at her coat.

"Yep?" She asked whilst comparing prices of packs of crisps. That'd keep them quiet at home, she decided, dumping them in the basket. They didn't go to nursery, so she looked after them all day.

"You forgot stuff for daddy! When he comes home he needs his scratchcards!" Steven reminded her. Emilie's heart sunk. She kneeled beside him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Sweetheart, you know daddy's gone away...he...he won't be coming home for, uh, a little bit of time." She swallowed. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have in a store, where a shop attendant was already listening in rudely.

"Why?" Michael asked, sucking his thumb.

"Daddy...Daddy is at someone else's home." She admitted.

She couldn't tell them how her husband cheated on her with two women, and then kicked him out, screaming and crying at him. It had only happened yesterday. The boys had assumed it was just another argument, but now, their faces dropped when she reluctantly told them he probably wasn't coming home.

"I want Daddy to come here!" Michael whined, his eyes glazing over with tears.

"Me too!" Steven cried, face red with fury.

"Come on, let's...go pay for this lot, yeah? Let's not cause a scene." She told them, or rather begged. She shot a glare at the shop attendant who was not-so-subtly listening, who scurried off.

"Daddy!" Michael cried, stomping his foot. Then, he looked at Steven, then Emilie, and suddenly held his breath.

Oh God, not here, Emilie thought. Once, he'd done it for so long he'd passed out, she was about to call an ambulance when he'd woken up abruptly, giggling because the stubborn little mite had gotten his way. She really didn't want that to happen again.

"Michael? Breathe! Stop holding your breath this instant!" Emilie ordered, shaking him. Michael crossed his arms defiantly. Steven looked glad his brother was doing something which seemed to be working, and started looking around as if his dad was suddenly going to appear. When he didn't appear, Steven started to call for 'Daddy' loud enough to make someone's eardrums burst.

"Stop!" Emilie pleaded, her son was now turning red. She began to shake him furiously, begging for him to just breathe. A crowd was gathering, muttering words to each other. Emilie knew they all thought she was a bad mother.

"QUIT IT!" She screeched suddenly.

Michael stopped and breathed again. Steven stopped clamouring for daddy. Everyone stopped whispering behind her back. They all stared. Emilie felt red settle over her cheeks, so embarrassed, so guilty. What had she done?

"I can't believe she'd scream at her own children!"

"She's not fit to be a mother,"

"Awful parenting, she ought to get them kids taken away!"

"She can't even control her own bratty children!"

Emilie felt her heart race as she quickly grabbed her son's hands, yanking them through the store, and pulling them out. She forgot the shopping. Michael cried loudly, red with upset and streaked with tears. Steven did the same, howling for all he was worth. People stopped and stared, some even pointed like they'd never seen children in a strop before. Emilie felt like the worst mother in the world.

She ushered them in through the front door, slamming it behind them and leaning on it. They were both hiccuping from the sobbing they'd done, but at least they'd stopped crying. Emilie, however, felt her eyes fill up with tears as she slid down the door, burying her head in her knees brought up to her chest.

"Mummy?" she heard, and then she felt tiny fingers nudge her.

"Go and leave me alone, you bad, BAD children!" She shouted.

She immediately felt sorry.

"I'm so...I didn't mean to...babies, come here!" She pleaded, but it was too late.

Her boys rushed away, terrified, beginning to cry.

She'd scared her own boys. She was a hopeless mother.

She didn't see the point of anything anymore. If she couldn't even look after her children, there was no point.

No point at all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Emilie wasn't sure how long she'd been crying. Her eyes felt sore and wet, and her cheeks were damp and stained. She wiped her face, breathing heavily.

She wasn't good enough to be a mother, she told herself. Her boys probably hated her now.

She got up, groaning with effort, and walked through the hall to try and find them. She wasn't looking very long. There was a noise of sniffing from their bedroom upstairs.

After walking up the mountain of stairs, she pushed open the door to a sight that broke her heart. Her boys were hidden under the bed covers, clearly hugging together. She could hear little gasps as they heard her creaking across the flooring. Slowly, she pulled open the cover. Michael's head was pressed into Steven's chest, wetting it with tears, and Steven was stroking his hair lovingly, hugging him so tightly as if he was never letting him go. Emilie swallowed back tears.

"I'm so sorry," She whispered. "I got angry. I shouldn't have. I was worried about you, and I got mad, I'm the naughty one." She told them. Steven finally looked her in the eyes, his own blue ones matching her own. He slowly let go of Michael, who sat up as well, his thumb in his mouth. Steven was the first to rush into his mother's arms, soon followed by his brother.

"We're sorry, mummy."

"So sowwy,"

"It's okay, my babies. It's okay. I love you both so much…" She told them, closing her eyes as she hugged them tightly to her chest.

They stayed like that for quite a long time.

 **First off, I apologize for the lack of writing! I am still continuing 'A Million Miles Away', it's just that I've got also got a million more fanfictions planned which I'm writing** **simultaneously** **in advance, ha! I'm also kinda struggling for inspiration without making a rip-off of several movies, so bare with me!**

 **Secondly. Casualty didn't completely show Emilie's side of the Huntington's/Adoption storyline and left a few unanswered questions (don't get be wrong it was beautifully portrayed, Carol Royle is an amazing actress). I thought that it was a cool idea to write what might've happened before/after her boys were taken away, also exploring the mental health side of things very briefly and where their father might've gone. This will have** **five or six chapters** **to it, and I'm going to update every** **Tuesday** **just so I can get into a regular updating schedule! Anyway, that's all I'm going to say, until next time! (Any reviews and feedback would be appreciated, it keeps me going! Thank you for reading!)**


	2. Monday

**Teeloganroryflan:** _Thank you for your review and lovely words, it means a lot!_

 **Sweeet-as-honey:** _Thank you for your review! I'm glad you like the idea, I was worried that it was a bit boring since we've already seen the ending, but it seems to be fanfiction-writer-law to answer every single question! Parents don't always get it right unfortunately, sometimes children end up getting wrongly scolded in a fit of rage. I'm pleased you liked the boys' relationship, I didn't want to make them too loving or too distant, I'm glad it was alright!_

 **Tanith Panic:** _Thank you for your review! I have had to do a lot of research for this story and some others coming up, it's exhausting! It's cool that you relate though! Thanks, I'm glad you think it's off to a good start, lots more emotional bits to come!_

 **Guest (cheesybluescrubs):** _I hope you like this next chapter bubs!_

 **InfinityAndOne:** _I'm glad you like the idea! Emilie isn't a bad mother, you're right. I have a feeling that Cal and Ethan, with their usual disagreements were probably quite troublesome so they'd kept her on her toes! I'm pleased you think they're adorable, I enjoy writing them as children. Thank you for your review!_

 **Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 **Chapter 2) Monday**

Emilie honestly didn't know if she should go through with this.

She was due at the GP in twenty minutes to talk to her doctor. She knew something wasn't right inside of her head, and she owed it to her boys to find out what it was. She needed to give them the best care, and if she was ill, she had to know.

Though she really didn't want to go to the doctors. What if someone thought she was just crazy and locked her up? Then she'd lose her boys, the only people that mattered in her life.

No. She had to do this. It was for them, for her boys, her babies.

 **Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"-I just feel like I'm...trapped in a bubble. I can't explain it. Just either nothingness or everything all at once. Nothing seems to feel right. I feel like I'm not at my best." Emilie explained. Dr Springer nodded, encouraging her.

"Right. How long have you been feeling this way, may I ask?" He questioned, beginning to start writing notes and clicking his pen, peering into her eyes interestedly.

"I...I don't know. About...possibly five months...oh, I don't know." Emilie sighed, running a hand through her hair. Dr Springer turned his attention over to the little boys playing on the floor of his office with a toy stethoscope, pretending to do CPR and surgeries on each other, giggling quietly. It brought a smile to Emilie's face.

"Bound to be doctors, aren't they?" Dr Springer smiled. "Very well behaved, I must say."

"Absolutely, they're angels." Emilie looked at them with adoration in her eyes, smiling as they giggled childishly together. She turned back to the doctor who was deep in thought, breaking out of his metaphorical bubble when she gave him an expectant look.

"Anyway, how about the boys? Are you coping with them?" Dr Springer questioned softly, getting right back to business.

"Yeah...yeah." Emilie said, her mind going back to yesterday at the store. She must have looked doubtful because Dr Springer began to look concerned.

"Do you feel like you're a good mother? Remembering meals, keeping them entertained, bathing them both, all the normal things, you feel you can do that?" He asked. Emilie was beginning to feel hot and bothered.

"Oh...I don't know. Most the time, yeah. But lately, I...I guess I am struggling a little." She admitted. Dr Springer looked interested.

"Alright." He nodded. Emilie began to doubt her answer.

"I am a good mother. I'm capable." She said to him firmly, even though she wasn't sure herself. He just gave her a nod and a look as to say he really didn't believe her. She felt anxiety churn in her stomach.

"Well, they look like they're getting bored, so we'll chat over the phone when I've come up with a diagnosis and given you some time to relax." Dr Springer stated, placing his paperwork down. Emilie nodded, giving him a small smile.

"Okay then. Thank you for your time. Say bye-bye, boys." Emilie told them, getting up.

"Bye!" Steven said happily, grabbing his mum's hand.

"Bye bye," Michael repeated twice, waving back at the doctor as they left the office.

 **Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Dr Springer waited until he heard them walk down the corridor, and sighed deeply. He circled the words on his notes thoughtfully; 'unfit mother', 'struggling to cope', 'neglection'.

These kids weren't safe, he thought. Mrs Groome was struggling to cope, anyone could see that, and it was the rational choice to do something about it. Being so high up in the 'game', as he called it, he had the authority to do whatever he liked.

No matter how destructive.

He closed his eyes and reminded himself that, yes, he was doing the right thing.

With a frown on his face, he picked up the phone on his spotless desk and held it to his ear.

"Hello?" Dr Springer paused for a second, before continuing without another moment of hesitation.

"Social services, please."


	3. Tuesday

**Teeloganroryflan:** _Thank you for your review! I hope you enjoy this chapter as it's even more dramatic, to be honest!_

 **Tanith Panic:** _Thank you for your review! Emilie's probably feeling bad enough but sadly she's only going to feel worse as Dr Springer's choices are really going to affect their future, hugely. I hope I didn't make you too cross with him! Thank you for your kind words about my writing._

 **Bonnie Sveen Fan:** _Thank you for your review, I'm glad you thought they were cute! I could just imagine them playing doctors as kids, it seems to fit, considering their future in the ED. There's sadly going to be a lot of confusion and hurt, you're right there._

 **InfinityAndOne:** _That's definitely the moment things spiral downwards. Dr Springer was slightly careless and never properly bothered to discover the cause of her feelings, his thoughts were to keep the boys safe though they're far from harm! Thank you for your review!_

 **Sweeet-as-honey:** Thanks for your review, I'm glad you're not bored, and that's true about the prequel thing! You have a good point about the fact Huntington's wasn't well known about 20-odd years ago. And he should probably have a career change to a psychic as he guessed the boys future careers perfectly!

 _ **Note:**_ _I'm sorry about the long wait, I'm aware it's been about 2 weeks and I am not entirely sure why it's taken me so long to just post this chapter, as I've pre-written it already (not the end one but I'm working on it). I'll try and update more as I do enjoy putting fanfiction on here, even though my updating schedule went down the drain, oops!_

 **Xxxxxxxxxxxx**

 **Chapter 3) Tuesday**

The smell of bacon sizzled through the house. It caused the boys to wake up early, their tummies rumbling as the smell hit them.

Steven was the first to wake. Swinging out of bed, not even stopping to wipe the sleep from his eyes or stretch, he crept across the floor and over to his brothers bed. Michael was fast asleep, thumb hooked in his mouth. Steven decided to tease him about that later.

Steven shook Michael vigorously, causing the younger one to groan and whine, still half asleep. Michael was wrapped tightly in his duvet, very comfortable looking until Steven pulled it away, over-excited by the prospect of bacon downstairs. Of course, he could just get the food on his own, maybe even have his brothers portion, but he chose against it.

"Bubba..." Michael murmured sleepily.

"Come on, Mikey! Mummy is frying bacon downstairs!" Steven grinned when his brother immediately shot up at the magic words, following him downstairs in his pajamas. Steven had button up monkey ones, and Michael had some of a similar style, but dinosaur printed. They greeted their mother and smiled hopefully.

"Yes, you can have bacon for breakfast." Emilie said, smiling down at them. "Go and get dressed first, though!" She told them, causing a small groan to pass through their lips, but begrudgingly, they went upstairs together.

Today was a good day, she smiled. A sudden positive upsurge had made her get early, make a nice breakfast and have a good time with her kids. She knew it might not last long, but she was determined to make things as good as they could be.

Going to the doctor did help. She got a weight of her shoulders by telling him her worries, and was hoping to hear back from him anytime soon. It made a knot form in her stomach at the thought of discovering the cause of her almost constant low mood, but it was gone and nearly forgotten when she heard the thumping of running down the stairs.

It had only taken them a couple minutes and they'd been washed and dressed, seating themselves at the kitchen table, digging into their food. Steven got the ketchup from the middle of the table, making a swamp of red in the middle of his plate until she tactfully swiped the bottle away.

"Good boys," She smiled, considering pushing her own plate away. She wasn't actually all that hungry, toying with a slither of bacon before putting it back. Nevermind, she thought. As long as her boys were fed, that was all that mattered.

There was a sudden knock at the door. She pushed her plate away and got up from the table.

"Wait here, sweethearts." She smiled at Steven, who had ketchup dripping down his chin. "Won't be long,"

She hoped they could be trusted, sat on their own. She didn't want a tomato ketchup war breaking out while her back was turned.

Emilie hesitantly left the boys in the kitchen as she walked down the hallway. Without a second thought she opened the front door with a forced welcoming smile on her face.

"Are you Mrs Groome?" Asked a man dressed smartly in a suit, not stopping to say hello first. She didn't approve of his pink pinstripe color scheme, but focused on keeping the polite smile on her face. He was joined by three other gentlemen, and one woman.

"Yes, I am." She confirmed. "What can I do for all you gentlemen?"

"Right," Said the man. "I'm Thomas. My team and I are part of the social services. Due to a call from a healthcare professional who would rather remain anonymous,we've been forced to make the decision of removing your children from your care. Would you mind if we came in?"

"Right," Said the man, giving her a smile stretched over his teeth. "I'm Thomas,"

"Emilie," She shook his hand.

"My team and i are part of the social services,"Thomas started. "Due to a call from a healthcare professional, we're rather worried for the safety of your children," Emilie's eyes grew.

"Who?" Ashe asked, confused. "And my children are perfectly safe, thank you!" Emilie retorted.

"Apparently you've been struggling to cope,is this true, Mrs Groome?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"-So we've been forced to make the difficult decision of removing your two children from your care for a short while, or as long as we see fit."

"What?" Emilie's mouth dropped open. "No! No...this is so sudden! I love my boys, I would never neglect them, I can cope, I can!"

"I'm not at liberty to decide that. Please, would you mind if we came in?" Thomas asked her. Not a chance, Emile thought. Her eyes filled with tears and she felt like she was in a nightmare.

"No!" Emilie crossed her arms and tried to blink away the tears in her eyes. Her voice got quieter. "You want to take my babies away?" She whispered as the realization hit her. They wouldn't just be coming in for a friendly chat, it would be much more than that.

"We've been informed about an issue of neglect, that you're unable to cope." Thomas dodged the question."We have no say in the matter, Mrs Groome, it's all been decided."

"No!" Emilie's voice raised to hide the shakiness. "I'm not letting you in! You're not taking my babies away, I won't let you!"

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice, madam." With that, Thomas barged right past her, storming into the kitchen.

"No!" Emilie screamed. Two of the social services team began to attempt calming her, but she shouted in their faces, begging and pleading for them to leave.

Then she heard her children cry.

Her heart turned over.

"Michael! Steven!" Her voice broke as she shouted their names. Another man rushed in. She could see Michael being scooped up and carried away, followed by his screaming brother.

"Mummy!" Steven screamed, trying to get away from the man's grip. He scratched, yelled and punched, but of course the man was so much stronger than him. It was a losing battle.

Emilie was restrained as the men left her front door with her kids in their arms, and put them in a car.

"Please, you can't do this!" Emilie began to sob when she saw her children bang on the windows of the car, their little faces stained with tears.

"I really am truly sorry, but it would be unethical of-" She spat in the Thomas' face, and was about to claw the person holding her back when she was grasped more firmly.

They had to hold her back, straining with effort to keep hold of her as the car began to drive away, containing her only two people who she loved with all her heart.

She watched with a river of tears streaming down her cheeks as they drove away into the horizon.


	4. Tuesday Night

**Is-there-somewhere-x:** _I'm glad you think so, that's kind of you to say! Hope you enjoy chapter too! Thank you for your review :)_

 **Bonnie Sveen Fan:** _I know, I know. I feel really sorry for her! Thank you for your review, I hope you enjoy the next chapter :)_

 **InfinityAndOne:** _Thank you for your review! You don't sound insulting at all! In a way, then, I'm happy and extremely flattered that it was painful to read. Thank you, I'm really pleased I managed to capture her emotion and desperation :)_

 **Sweeet-as-honey:** _So am I, it's an awful thing to happen to children and their parents. You're right, they're clueless as to what is going on, but at least they do get to see each-other again! And that sounds so cool, I'd love some pyjamas like that! I'm glad you appreciate the choice of attire, and you're right about Cal being a bit of a monkey and Ethan being a bit old-fashioned, to put it mildly! Thank you for your review!_

 **Tanith Panic:** _Yes, you are right, that probably wasn't the best idea for her to attack the social workers! Although, it's no wonder why she would as those boys mean the world to her! Her whole world is turned around in a matter of minutes, it's devastating. I hope the chapter didn't upset you too much, but I'm glad to hear you're tough because you may need to be with later chapters! Here's some more writing for you :) Thanks for your review!_

 **Chapter 4) Tuesday Night**

Red liquid spilled out of the wine glass as she held it with a jerky hand. Holding it to her lips, she took several sips, slowly, as her throat was tight with pent-up emotion.

The living room was lit gently, the moon shining brightly behind the closed curtains. A wine bottle rested on the coffee table, in easy reach, so she could get it from the sofa where she was sitting.

Emilie sighed as she glanced around the room.

So many reminders.

A teddy in the corner of the room, several shiny toy cars left scattered across the carpet, colorful wooden blocks in a heap on the juice stained rug, and pillows left on the floor from their game of 'the floor is lava'. Emilie was planning on tidying up but it felt wrong.

Her boys could still return.

They would be upset if she'd ruined their intricate set-up of toys.

The doctor might ring, say he'd made a mistake, she was capable to care for them. Tell her she was a good mother and her boys were going to return.

Then she'd hear a knock at the door and be able to hold her boys as they raced into her arms.

Waiting. Jiggling her knee as she sat there. Waiting. Hoping for that phone call, that knock at the door, the crying into her chest as her boys ran over to her.

Nothing.

Her throat was tight. She tried to drink more wine but the action failed, trickling down her chin. It looked like blood, dripping onto the cream carpet, staining it. She gave up, holding the glass in her left hand, closing her eyes as she took a breath.

 _No, Emilie. You don't need to cry. You're fi-_

Her eyes opened just in time to see it happen, but in not enough time to actually prevent it. A tremor ran through her arm and made her hand tremble. It caused the glass to fall out of her loosened grip. It smashed onto the carpet, the red staining the cream color.

Her mouth dropped open. Her eyes filled and she began to tremble. Small sobs began coming out of her post box shaped mouth, heartbroken wails as she leaned back onto the sofa, bringing her knees up to her chest and weeping into them. Tears wet her knees, wet her face, and made her eyelashes damp.

It felt like a part of her heart had been torn out, and now, she was getting stabbed repeatedly in the chest with a rusty knife.

It was a punishment.

All her fault. Everything. She'd caused her boys to get taken away.

She knew she'd never get a phone call. Never. Nor did she deserve one. Her boys, they needed someone who could take care of them.

Give them something that she knew she never could.

Emilie cried harder. She cried until all the emotion had been torn out of her and she couldn't cry anymore. Just emptiness left inside of her, a gaping hole which she doubted could ever be filled.

Her face was still sticky with tears and her eyes were swollen, but she managed to stand up. Stumbling to the kitchen with tired legs, she tried to get another wine glass, but something stopped her in her tracks.

Several crayoned pictures were covering her fridge, alphabet magnets holding them up. Emilie's hand ghosted over them, smiling weakly at the wobbly stickmen and the smiling suns her boys had drawn.

Her favorite one was the picture they'd both done together. It'd taken them about an hour of careful doodling, giggling coming from their bedroom as they worked together to draw her a perfect card for her birthday.

They'd drawn a smiley version of her in the middle, her arms around both of them, who were both smiling equally as wide. A happy sun, a couple flowers in the pencilled grass, it was pretty. At the top they'd printed in wobbly writing ' _Happy B-day Mummy_ ' which they'd asked their dad to help them spell, before he'd left. She ran her finger across the words, feeling her bottom lip tremble with emotion.

Then, her mind flickered to an unwanted realization.

That could be the very last birthday picture she'd ever received from her boys.

Sinking down to the floor, taking the picture off the fridge, she held it close to her heart as she swallowed hard.

All she wanted was her boys back.

She closed her red-rimmed and puffy eyes, a few tears escaping through her eyelashes.

But she'd never get them back.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Steven perched on the edge of the bed, peering around the foreign room. He was aching to sleep but he couldn't bring himself to, not now. His worries were deep and clouded his every being. There was no way he could possibly sleep.

It was quiet, he thought. Much quieter than earlier, when all the children had been screaming and yelling.

'Your family and your new home' the social worker had told him. She was friendly enough and had a funny laugh, AND she could do a hilarious elephant impression, but she wasn't very truthful.

These kids weren't his family. This house wasn't his home.

The social worker was a liar.

The only thing he had left was his little brother, who was fast asleep, breath still catching and knees brought up to his chest underneath the secondhand duvet. Steven watched him sleep protectively, stroking his brother's hand.

Michael began to stir. Steven attempted to calm him gently before he saw the telltale signs of a bad dream. His forehead creased, hearing him let out small heartbroken cries in his slumber.

Steven had a feeling that Michael would have a nightmare tonight. He was pretty sure that he himself might end up having one too, another reason that contributed into staying awake.

"Hey, hey, hush, bubba." Steven soothed quietly as Michael's eyes opened, filled with tears and fear. Steven held open his arms wordlessly as Michael wriggled out of the cover, rushing into them. It broke Steven's heart as he heard his brother's small murmurs of 'I was scared' into his chest.

"I know," Steven swallowed. "I'm scared too."

"Want mummy," Michael whispered as Steven stroked his hair.

"Hey-" Steven felt a fat tear roll down his face. He didn't know he'd been crying. "-I'm here. I'll protect you."

"I want mummy!" Michael's voice trembled as repeated himself, as if that'd suddenly make everything okay the more times he said it. Steven kept him hushed. He hated the thought of anyone coming into their bedroom. They were still strangers even if they claimed to be new family.

"Yeah... I want mummy back too," Steven's reply was a small whisper as he hugged Michael closer. In all truth, he never wanted to let go. "But you're my little brother, and I love you lots, okay?" Steven usually hated saying stuff like that, embarrassed, but he knew Michael needed to hear it. "We're going to stick together,"

"They might take you away like they did w-with mummy," Michael lifted his damp face from Steven's chest, his glassy eyes staring into his older brothers, begging for reassurance.

"I won't let them, don't worry." Steven said, sounding much more determined than he felt. Michael nodded, wiping his nose.

"Okay," Michael murmured. "Bubba?"

"Yes?"

"Can you sleep with m-me tonight? I'm s-scared…"

"Fine," Steven smiled weakly. "I don't want to leave you alone anyway."


	5. New Life

**Chapter 5) New Life**

 **Is-there-somewhere-x:** _Aw thank you, that's really nice to hear!_

 **Tanith Panic:** _The boys will always stick together it seems, and cope with walking through hell and back! I'm glad you liked the small details. And, to answer your question, I'll PM you about what 'the floor is lava' is about! Thank you for your review!_

 **Sweeet-as-honey:** _Thank you, I'm glad to hear! Steven's a very good brother to Michael, it's a bit easier to express emotion by hugging and saying 'I love you' when you're a child rather than when you get older. Steven will grow up to be a lot less emotional, but still a good brother! Poor Emilie, you're right, it does seem like she's all alone. Thank you for your review!_

 **Teeloganroryflan:** _I'm glad to hear! Thank you for your review!_

 **InfinityAndOne:** _I agree, it is hard to write exactly what you mean sometimes, it's easy to accidentally insult someone, but you didn't for me, so that's fine! Yes, you're right about Emilie, nothing is really going right for her. Reaching out for help went wrong for her and cost her losing her sons, which was a mistake by the old system and not her. Both the boys do have each other, though, which is good. Thank you for your review!_

 **Bonnie Sveen Fan:** _I'm pleased you think they were cute, and I doubt Cal will ever stop being protective of his brother! Supervised visits might be a bit of an issue, as the boys would have to be told about the adoption, and of course they never were. Whether that was a good decision for the adoption to be a secret or not, it's sad either way. Thank you for your review!_

 _ **Just wanted to say that the updates for**_ _ **'A Million Miles Away'**_ _ **are probably going to be very slow. My motivation for writing has pretty much vanished, but I'll work on it and beat this mood so I can actually get things done. Sorry. But, I've pre-written all of this fanfiction, so the updates should actually happen! I hope this chapter is alright.**_

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 _Ethan is now 6 and Cal is 8._

The young brothers were sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor of their living room, surrounded by toys. They were currently building a house for their small toys with building bricks. Ethan found it hilarious to knock the building down every now and then, childishly giggling as Cal groaned and started over. Then, Cal would do the exact same thing to his brother.

"Play nice, boys." Matilda Hardy sighed, looking over her paperback at them as their playfulness descended into a small argument. A noise at the front door disturbed them.

"Post!" Ethan squealed, hearing the rattling of the postbox and knowing exactly what it meant. He began getting up to go and grab the letters.

"I'm getting it!" Cal clamoured, rushing after him and reaching the door first with his longer legs. Cal picked up the majority of the letters while Ethan was left with one, scowling in annoyance.

"Why do you get all the post?" Ethan groaned, crossing his arms.

"Because I'm the oldest," Cal said, grinning as he rushed into the living room again. Ethan paused before entering to give Cal another annoyed look, resting against the wall and running a finger over the letter.

"That doesn't make a differ...differ-ranch..." Ethan did his best to pronounce the tricky word, but his eyes wandered to the letter, distracting him. He had just started reading at school and could make out some words now.

"Em...Emilie. Gr...Groom. No, Groomie. Emilie Groomie. Or is it Groome, like a…" Ethan was still pondering over this before it was yanked out of his grasp.

"Daddy, I'm reading!" Ethan beamed up at Thomas Hardy, who barely noticed, eyes fixated on the letter which he'd taken from his son.

"Great, very good, pet. Matilda…" He walked past Ethan, not really giving him a second look before walking over to his wife.

"Is it that woman again?" He heard his mother ask, sighing as she looked at the letter. "I wish she'd leave us alone. They...they aren't her boys anymore."

"It's only her second letter, she's probably just wondering how we're getting on." His father frowned. "At least she has time for checking up on her….children." Ethan was confused. He walked over to his brother again and began helping the building grow.

"Don't defend her. And I have plenty of time taking care of my kids. I have to work sometimes, Thomas, it's a thing I have to do." Matilda retorted.

"Yeah, yeah." Thomas shook his head. "Whatever. I don't like the woman anyway. Always going on about-"

"Thomas, just chuck the letter away. I know she'll give up if we stop replying." Matilda said, turning back to her book, a sign the conversation was over.

"It says she wants supervised visits." Thomas noted.

"Not a chance. Emilie knows we can't do that…" Matilda's voice quieted. "The boys don't know."

Ethan butted in, hooking a thumb in his mouth.

"Who is 'Emilie'?" Ethan asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"None of your business," Thomas Hardy answered, swiping the letter from his wife. He dumped it in the bin.

"You threw it away! What if it was important?" Ethan pouted, annoyed.

"It wasn't," His father said simply, shaking his head and leaving the room. Matilda leaned back on her chair and smiled at the boys, pretending the argument had never happened.

"Good boys," She smiled. " _My_ boys,"

Ethan didn't miss how she always over emphasised the 'my' when she was talking about them.

Like she was convincing herself of something.

Ethan paused, eyebrows knotted, before shaking his head and getting back to playing.

Maybe his mother was just tired and she was saying things she didn't mean.

He convinced himself there wasn't anything wrong and began stacking bricks once again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 _Ethan is 14, Cal is 16_

"It's not his fault!"

"Of course it is, Matilda, the boy-"

"The boy doesn't ask to get bullied, Thomas."

"If he learned to man up then-"

"He's 14, for goodness sake!"

Even from the very top of the staircase, the sound of screaming could be heard. Ethan sighed. He wished they'd just stop fighting about him and go to sleep. Ethan played with the hem of his pyjama top, wishing Cal was here. Unfortunately, his brother had snuck out to the pub, leaving Ethan alone. He hated it when Cal did that.

But, it was his own fault his parents were screaming anyway. He shouldn't have brought up the bullying at school. He should've just settled with telling Cal and letting him deal with it. Ethan sighed again and listened into the argument. He knew his parents would be annoyed if they knew he was listening, but he couldn't just sleep, not until Cal was home and they'd stopped fighting.

"Oh, give it a break, Matilda, love,"

"No! I won't let you speak about our son like th- Don't you dare walk away from me!"

"I'll do what I like, woman!"

"What, including your daily trampling all over our both our perfect sons like they're worthless? Yes, you do that often! I just don't understand how you like to do that, it's sickk"

"Perfect...what rubbish. I've not even started on Caleb, he's been out for over an hour!"

"He'll be back soon…"

"Nonsense!"

The front door opened clumsily, stopping the argument for a second. Just on queue.

Ethan attempted to peer through the railing of the stairs and all he could see was the stumbling and tall frame of some person coming through the door.

Cal. Of course it was. With a bottle of alcohol in his hand, tipping precariously, it was obvious where he'd been. Their dad asked anyway.

"Where have you been?" Their dad screeched at Cal. From the relaxed expression on his older brother's face, Cal wasn't phased.

"Pub," Cal slurred, leaning against the wall. "Picking up birds and gettin' away from life." Ethan snickered at his brother's weirdness, but quickly clamped a hand over his mouth in case anyone noticed he was watching them.

"How the hell were you allowed in the pub?" Their dad questioned. "You're underage."

"I always find a way," Cal said, half distracted as he watched the liquid in the bottle tip onto the floor. Their dad snatched it away, irritated at the new wet patch on the carpet.

"You're pissed, aren't you?" Their dad hissed, scowling down at Cal. "I can't believe this…"

"Thomas!" Matilda intervened, only to be ignored.

"To think I was so happy when I was presented with two sons, only for them both to be completely useless!"

"Well, I'm sorry I disappointed you, dad." Cal mumbled sarcastically, not looking very sorry at all. "Maybe I...don't wanna join your sodding shipping firm and be a perfect son, ever thought about that?"

"This is nothing to do with my shipping firm!" Their dad argued. "You're clearly going nowhere in life, so I'm being considerate enough to give you the chance of joining my ready-made business!"

"I'd rather die, thanks." Cal replied nonchalantly.

"How dare you…" Even from the top of the stairs, Ethan could see how completely fuming their dad looked. "I've raised you! Put a roof over your head, fed you, clothed you, and this is how you repay me?"

"Isn't that what dad's are meant to do? You expecting to win 'father of the year' or something?" Cal retorted snarkily.

It probably wasn't the best decision to be smart with their dad.

There was a loud and shocking noise of a hard slap that rung painfully through the house.

Ethan could only watch, unable to do anything to stop it. Their mum looked horrified.

"You hit him!" Matilda yelled, after only a few seconds of disbelief had dragged on. "You hit my baby!" 

"He's not your baby," Thomas glared. He turned to Cal, who was holding the side of his red and burning face, and gave him a strong scowl. "And they're not sons of mine. They never have been, anyway." He turned and left the house, slamming the door behind him.

Then there was silence. For a second, at least.

"Caleb, I am so sorry, honey…"

"It's fine, mum."

"No, it's not-"

"I said it's fine!" Cal began to stumble drunkenly up the stairs, batting his mum away, muttering that it was 'okay'. Matilda left the hall, crumpled faced and tearful, leaving Cal to make his own way up the stairs, greeted half-way by his brother.

"What are you doing awake, squirt?" Cal questioned, yawning while looking at his clearly upset brother in confusion. "What a happy face you've got on! Who's pissed in your cornflakes, hm?"

"What? Urgh, nobody..." Ethan muttered quietly. "I can't believe dad just left like that...and he hit you!" Ethan's eyes widened in concern. "Does it hurt? Hold still and let me look." Ethan stood up, gesturing for Cal to kneel down a little as he couldn't reach his face otherwise, and winced at the mark on his brother's left cheek. "Ouch,"

"Yeah, ouch." Cal sighed. Ethan could smell the alcohol on his breath as he did that. "Still. It's cool. The old hypocrite will come back this morning, totally bladdered, and lie by saying sorry to me."

"Cal…" Ethan sighed.

"Just a way of life, eh? Better get used to it, bro." Cal smiled, clambering up the stairs and almost tripping. He stopped abruptly.

"What's up?" Ethan asked, confused at his brother's sudden stop.

"Feel a bit…" Cal broke off to burp. Loudly. "Ah. Better."

"You're disgusting," Ethan tried not to laugh. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"In a totally non-sexual way, yeah?"

"Cal!"

"Just checking, just checking." Cal smirked. "I tend to get a lot of offers."

"Oh, yes." Ethan smirked, helping his brother up the last step and assisting him into their shared room. "I bet all the ladies think you're irresistible when you're blindingly drunk and singing at the top of your lungs in the pub."

"Uh huh, of course." Cal said, allowing himself to be sat onto his bed, and then tucked in like a child, not even bothering to remove his shoes. "All of them."

"You're a card." Ethan grinned. He frowned a little, remembering that it was something their mum always said to them. He couldn't quite get the picture of his mum's tearful face out of his head, and by the look of Cal's face, he was thinking the same. Ethan cleared his throat and continued. "There. All cosy. Say 'goodnight', Cal." Ethan quite enjoyed pretending to be the older brother.

"Goodnight, Cal." His older brother repeated, causing Ethan to shake his head and roll his eyes half-heartedly. Ethan walked across the floor to his bed, getting in and attempting to get comfy.

"Cal?" Ethan called quietly, careful not to be too loud in case their mum came up the stairs to see them, or heaven forbid their dad came back.

"What?" Cal answered sleepily.

"What did dad mean when he said we'd 'never been sons' of his?" Ethan asked. "It's not like we're adopted or anything! It wasn't very nice of him to say. Why would he say that, Cal?"

"Not a clue, mate."

"Great. Glad to know, Cal. You're so helpful!"

"Hmm…"

Ethan shook his head, sighing. It only stayed on his mind for a couple more seconds before the need to sleep dragged him into the bliss of unconsciousness. He let it happen.


	6. Lost Time

**Tanith Panic-** _Thank you for your review! I dislike that expression too, if men had to go through childbirth or deal with catcalling on a daily basis they'd change their mind about it all being a walk in the park, I agree! Cal's very cheeky, but violence is definitely not the answer. Matilda is in a difficult situation and it doesn't help that her husband isn't giving much assistance other than harsh words. But it's the boy's choice at the end of the day. And I can imagine Ethan using more quiet coping techniques, laying low, I guess. I couldn't quite picture him going to the pub like Cal did, to be fair!_

 **InfinityAndOne:** _Thank you for your review! As you said, there wasn't really a point of them dwelling on it, they probably had more worries and the clues were so scarce. Thomas is definitely out-of-order to put it lightly, he's the sort of dad I could imagine them having for some reason, if not then perhaps they'd speak of him more highly, or at all! I'm glad you've looked forward for the next chapter, I really hope I don't disappoint!_

 **Chapter 6) Lost Time**

 _ **This is a very, very long chapter. About 11 pages long to be exact. I hope I haven't gone overboard!**_

 **Twenty-Seven Years Later ( Based on 'High Tide' - S30 E27)**

Sadness.

It was glowing in their eyes. Diluted with false hope and plenty of shy enthusiasm, stretched smiles to exclaim that they weren't upset, in fact, they were just fine. But, nobody ever really uses the word 'fine' when they're telling the truth. 'I'm fine' is the most common, and often most devastating lie. Emilie knew that. She said it all the time.

Emilie could see it in their faces as they turned away. Blinking hard, desperate to keep a brave face. They were good at it, considering the heartbreaking circumstances, she was surprised at their composure.

The circumstances weren't brilliant. Granted. She knew that they were probably in a lot of pain. Well, definitely.

Her boys.

So grown up. So brave. Her eldest's eyes were just like her own, deep blue and filled with hidden sadness. Still had the same blond hair he always did have, even when he was a baby, he had it. His younger brother, her littlest son, had the same color hair, only a fraction lighter. His eyes were brown, but undoubtedly just as sad as his brothers. His black framed glasses hid a lot. He offered her a weak smile, helping her into the ambulance.

She attempted to smile back at him, mirroring his too bright expression.

Her Michael. Her Steven. All grown up.

Now Caleb and Ethan. Or Cal for short, and for some reason her youngest had acquired the nickname 'Nibbles'. It was quite sweet.

She wished she had the time to ask about everything. Ask how they got on in Medical school, their plans for the future, stories from their childhood that she hadn't been part of, any romances, everything.

But she couldn't. No energy was left. It was an effort to keep her eyes open and all the time she had one recurring thought on her mind.

Today, it was her last day. She'd known it was coming, weeks in advance, but she still hadn't gotten accustomed to the thought of being dead. Nobody could really understand that.

Emilie told herself she felt fine about it, though. Completely fine.

Liar.

Though, she was happier than she'd been in a while. At least she had her boys back. At least she wouldn't be dying alone.

The day she'd found out, over twenty years ago, that she had Huntington's disease, it'd torn her up inside. Death was always something she had never feared because she'd known it was coming. As soon as the disease had finished controlling you, dominating every aspect of your life, it would consume you, take the only thing you had left, which was simply being alive. Death was definitely not a fear. It was, sadly, a comfort to know that one day the suffering would be over.

Her disease was relentless. She hated it.

But she'd hate it even more if it had been passed on to either of her boys.

She knew the feeling of the disease when you first got it. Helplessness,

Exchanging a weak smile and a brief conversation with the pretty and noticeably smart clinical lead of the emergency department where her sons worked, she was strapped into the ambulance, on the way to the beach.

All the while, a voice in the back of her head whispered _'this is the last time you will ever see your sons'_.

The voice made her heart twist.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The ride there was long. Rain had started pouring onto the ambulance as it chugged along the roads. The miserable weather matched the atmosphere, she decided somberly.

Two paramedics sat in the front. One was called Iain, he was a respectful and kind man, who also had full control of the driving. The other was called Jez, he was apparently new and it showed through. He was very excitable. It seemed wrong for him to be so happy, considering what was going to happen soon. She could sense her sons internally screaming at the young paramedic.

"I'll be DJ!" Called Jez from the front. "Any requests?"

"Uh, no, thank you." Ethan responded, polite, of course. He turned back to Emilie and his brother, sifting through the photos gently. Ethan and Cal were talking about Charlie for a moment, to which Cal looked quite shifty when Ethan asked a question about what the older man had meant earlier, but Emilie didn't intervene. She didn't know what Cal was hiding, and to be honest, she didn't have the energy to find out.

"Where's that?" Cal asked, breaking her out of her thoughts as he reached across to get a photo from her lap. One of her favorites.

"Conleth Bay," She informed him.

"You looked beautiful, mum." Cal told her, giving a small smile. She felt a warmth inside of her as he called her 'mum'. However, she didn't miss the way Ethan's face fell a little. He hadn't known about the adoption as long as Cal had. She imagined it'd still take some time to sink in. Unfortunately, time was something she didn't have a lot of.

"B-because I was happy," Emilie said truthfully. Cal passed the photo to Ethan. "Will you do something f-for me?"

"Of course," Cal said immediately.

"W-will you scatter my ashes there?" She asked him. Cal's face dropped a little and Ethan's own filled with sympathy and sadness as he looked at his brother's expression. "I-I'd give anything to go there one more time," She sighed sadly. Cal's expression turned and now looked kind of...devious.

"Iain?" Cal called. "Can you pull over for a sec? Mum needs some air,"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They pulled over shortly after Cal requested it. Jez got the trolley into the ambulance again carefully, not jostling her, even having a joke around, as Cal and Ethan were having some stern words. Ethan looked as if he wanted to pull his hair out.

"Iain, mate?" Cal called to the paramedic. "I think mum dropped her blanket on the path back there...couldn't go and get it, could you?"

"Yeah," Iain got out of the front and jogged over to the path. Cal turned to Jez, giving him a look. The younger paramedic seemed to get the picture.

"I'll give him a hand," Jez smiled.

"Good lad," Cal said gratefully. They closed the back of the ambulance in a few seconds, and then Jez jogged over to Iain. Ethan was stood in the back of the ambulance with Emilie, giving Cal a disapproving look.

"I'll drive," Cal said, closing the ambulance doors before Ethan could deliver any response.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cal had only managed about twenty minutes of driving before he uttered the dreaded 'I think we're lost', to which Ethan rolled his eyes and muttered something about typical brothers.

They stopped off at a cosy little cafe, ignoring the stares from people (as they'd emerged from an ambulance, after all) and getting seated at a table. It smelled of pastries and reminded Emilie of days spent on road trips, making her smile a little. The smell didn't provoke any memories for her boys, however, as they were far too focused on the map spread across the table.

"I knew this would happen," Ethan muttered.

"Just shut up for one moment, please!" Cal held a hand up to his brother, annoyed.

"I think we should go back," Ethan told his brother, ignoring the command Cal had given him.

"Nibbles," Emilie could sense the annoyance by the use of the nickname as Cal continued. "Go and breathe into a paper bag or something,"

"Nibbles?" They all turned simultaneously, the argument halting for a second as they saw the waitress. She was dressed in a purple top and jeans, a smile on her face and a dishcloth in her hands.

"Oh…" Ethan replied, slightly embarrassed. Cal looked quite amused. "Don't ask,"

The waitress gave him a smile as she continued, her eyes darting to the map. "Where are you headed to?"

"Erm-" Cal was cut off by Ethan.

"-Almost certain disaster," Ethan responded pessimistically. The waitress laughed and Cal looked increasingly annoyed. "No, Conleth?"

"Really?" The waitress asked, confused, but still amused. "Why?"

"Spontaneous fun, apparently." Ethan told her. The waitress laughed again, and gave him a smiley look that lasted a little bit too long to just be manners.

"Ooh, the horror!" The waitress joked sarcastically.

"Yes, thank you." Ethan gave Cal a glance. His older brother was still hunched over a map, but gave his brother a glance back.

"Erm, you missed a turning back that way. It's sign posted to 'Heatham'." She informed them. Cal's noticeable confusion cleared a little as he gave her a small smile.

"Why don't you come with us?" Cal asked, craning his head so he could look at her. Ah, Emilie thought. THIS was the flirty side of her older son that had been mentioned by many others at the emergency department where her sons worked (even just the thought of them being doctors made her proud). "Show us the way?"

"Sorry-" The waitress looked back at Ethan. "- But my tolerance for spontaneous fun is very low," The two laughed again as if they'd forgotten about Cal and Emilie's presence. Emilie exchanged a look with her older son, who looked half-annoyed, half-proud that the waitress was taking a liking to his brother. The waitress left them alone as Ethan came back back from cloud nine, a little flushed and pink as he sat down.

"You know what, I still have no idea what road we're on." Cal picked up the map and walked back over to the same waitress. Ethan muttered a 'right', clearly knowing his brothers game.

"Pretty girl," Emilie commented.

"Was she?" Ethan responded, raising his eyebrows, smiling as if he hadn't noticed. Emilie reached forward and took a sweet from the striped paper bag in the middle of the table. She put it into her mouth before continuing.

"I-I need to ask you something," Emilie started. She saw Ethan's eyes widen, nodding quickly. He'd been too focused on watching her jerky movements with half-hidden fear.

"Yes?" Ethan replied gently.

"Will you...get the test done?" Emilie knew it was a big ask, but it had to be said. Ethan noticeably looked worried.

"Right...the test." Ethan looked like he hated the entire prospect. She didn't blame him.

Before he could answer, the waitress came up behind him, causing their short conversation to falter.

Suddenly, her throat went tight. A lightning bolt of fear fell on her like a ton of bricks as she felt her whole airway fail.

She couldn't, not here. She wasn't ready to die, she couldn't do it, not right this second. She still had so much to say to her sons…

Breathing. She couldn't do it. Then it hit her. It was the sweet, she was choking on it. How could she have forgotten about it in her mouth? She suddenly broke into a coughing fit, causing all eyes to turn.

"Mum?" She heard as the cafe silenced. A pair of hans immediately rested on her back, trying to help her. She knew at once it was Cal, she'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"Cal, she's choking." Ethan's voice was calm but still urgent.

"Mum?" Cal asked again, lifting her head.

Coughing was impossible, now. It couldn't be done. She could hear Cal telling her to cough but she just couldn't. She really couldn't breathe and her whole body was trembling, her heart hammering and fear completely swallowing her and spitting her out.

"Cal, slap her back." Ethan ordered, as Cal quickly obeyed the command. Emilie could feel unconsciousness begin to take her.

If there was a God up there, she was furious with him. Seriously, was she going to die in a cafe because she choked?

Her thoughts were cut off as she felt her body numb. It felt as though she was flying, not quite _there_.

Cal's arms wrapped around her waist in an attempt to bring the sweet up, trying to help.

"Cal, she's getting cyanosed." Ethan told him. Emilie's face was frozen in fear. She would cry, but she had no energy left in her.

She was going. She could feel it. Her lungs were collapsing, giving up their fight for air, and she just knew she was going to die in her son's' trembly arms. Her eyes were flickering closed like a faulty light bulb, and were about to shut firmly when-

She could breathe. Finally. Her lungs were filled with air and she felt alive again. Bursting into terrified sobs, she rested into her son's arms, taking in all the precious air she possibly could. The sound of her sons conversing could be heard, but it was all ghost-like and faded away as her lungs thanked her for the relief.

Maybe there was a God up there, she thought tiredly.

But she was still furious with him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The trip back to the ambulance was hazy. She could hardly remember her last name, still exhausted and completely drained from the whole experience. She was strapped onto the trolley and given an oxygen mask.

The pretty waitress came with them, giving Ethan a small package wrapped in brown paper, and then walking back to the cafe. He sat beside her, face clouded with guilt and sadness. She wanted to tell him not to blame himself for the choking, he'd been distracted, but her voice wasn't coordinating with her brain. She waited patiently as he parted his lips, about to tell her something with a disconsolate look in his eyes.

"Listen, um…" Ethan paused for a small breath. "I'll get the test done,"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After only a few minutes in the ambulance, EMilie could feel herself getting restless. She was in pain, as usual, but this time her face couldn't mask it. Therefore, Ethan got noticeably worried and anxious for her.

"How's the pain?" Ethan asked, brow furrowed. He already knew the answer, of course. He seemed to know her thoughts well.

"Alright," Emilie replied, smiling at him. A small white lie never hurt anyone.

"Let me see if I can find anything to help," Ethan sensed she was in pain even though she didn't say. He began rustling through medical bags, looking more and more anxious as time passed, trying to find some.

"How are we doing back there?" Cal called from the front.

"Yep, we're alright." Ethan replied, reaching across the ambulance to peer inside a bag. "Trying to find the painkillers,"

"Th..they're not in thee!" Cal called back, sounding agitated all of a sudden. She thought he must be half-driving and half-looking at Ethan, Emilie thought. She would've told him how dangerous that was if she hadn't been so tired and worn.

"Er, they are somewhere." Ethan replied calmly.

"Nope, they're in the paramedic bag, Ethan." Cal said, sounding worried for some reason.

"I think I put them in yours," Ethan said.

"No!" Cal was shouting now. "You didn't!"

"Cal!" Ethan called back. "I watched you put them in here."

"Seriously, they're not in there!" Cal yelled. Emilie watched Ethan's face flood with confusion as he managed to finally open the bag. Clearly, he was looking at something very shocking.

"I said...I said they're not in there!" Cal's hand snaked hurriedly to the bag, closing it, eyes off the road.

His eyes had left the road, Emilie realized with horror.

He wasn't looking where he was driving.

"Cal!" Ethan yelled. It was too late, though. The ambulance swayed and tilted to the side. Cal tried to regain control of the wheel but it was a lost cause. Emilie cried out as it abruptly stopped, throwing them all forward harshly.

There was a screeching of the tires and a horrible scratching noise as the ambulance drove straight into a bush.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Emilie could sense the tension.

From the door slams, the hands-on-hips poses, the subtle eye rolls, the impatient huffs, the stony glares, to the increasingly childish comebacks being delivered, she felt extremely worried. Being unable to move from the trolley, she could just hear their arguing from front of the ambulance, and the sound of Cal trying to get into the engine but failing miserably.

"Is everything alright?" She shouted to them, her voice shaky.

"Fine, mum!" Cal replied quickly. She seriously doubted that, but stayed quiet.

They'd been trying, yet again, to open up the bonnet of the ambulance, when the sound of a car began to get nearer. She didn't even have the chance to ask who it was when Ethan leaped into the back of the ambulance, slamming the door on Cal. 'Police car' he muttered, looking stressed to tears. Then, he seemingly had a brainwave.

"W-what are you doing?" She asked as he grabbed a jacket with the 'NHS' logo on it, the trademark green color of a paramedic. She would've laughed if he didn't look so deadly serious. They were far too big for him and hung off. It reminded her of dressing up when they were young.

"Saving our skin," Ethan offered her a weak smile. He put the helmet on, which looked far too big, and quickly opened up the ambulance door again, revealing a policewoman and a very flustered looking Cal. They turned in surprise as they saw Ethan, dressed clumsily as a paramedic, peering through the doors.

"Hello, officer."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The sound of her sons whooping and laughing made her smile as they resumed the drive. They'd escaped the policewoman and could now make their way to the beach, finally. It made the wait worth it as she heard her sons chatting and joking around happily.

Her happiness couldn't last forever, of course.

It was only a few seconds later when her lungs felt like they'd shrunk and her windpipe was narrower than before. More air was escaping than entering.

Desperation and fear crept into her eyes as she turned to Ethan, pleading at him. It only took a few seconds for him to realize that she was struggling, and immediately did his best to help her.

"Emilie?" He asked, worry seeping into his tone. It hurt a little that he didn't call her 'mum', especially since she felt like this was death. Just once, before she died, she wanted him to call her the name for what she really was to him.

The ambulance had pulled over and her sons came into focus. Her eyes fixed on them both, watching tiredly as they attempted to help her breathing. It hurt to breathe. Painful intakes of breath slowed down as she let her eyes close, only hearing faint murmurs of her name being called.

Then they disappeared and she was consumed in a sleep which she granted to happen.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The numbness was gently fading away, she could feel again.

She felt the waves of unconscious begin to uncover her body, allowing her to open her eyes. For a second she was unsure of her surroundings, her eyes filled with quiet worry, but it left as soon as she felt a grip on her hand.

Kind brown eyes were looking into her own. She registered that it was her youngest son who grasped her hand, a simple enough gesture, but one that spoke volumes. Inside his eyes was sympathy, worry, but something she couldn't mistake was underlying the gentle gaze. Affection.

It was only a small amount, hidden by wariness, but it was unmistakable. It kept her going throughout the remaining trip to the beach. Her son didn't even need to tell her they had arrived since the waves crashing loudly, noisy enough for her to hear even from the sanctuary of an ambulance, was a clear sign of their arrival.

"How're you doing?" Ethan asked her, popping the bubble she'd made as her brain had zoned out earlier.

"Your brother…" She started as soon as she managed to pull the oxygen mask off. "... is a dreadful driver!" Ethan laughed gently at her statement, gazing briefly over to his brother who was contentedly driving, eyes facing front this time. It was no doubt that she was correct, though, considering their close encounter with a broken engine.

"We're here," Cal called a few seconds later, the ambulance grinding to a halt. Ethan gave his brother a small smile, turning back to Emilie.

"Then let's go and find the beach,"

 **More soon!**


	7. So She Did

**Bonnie Sveen Fan:** _Thank you for your review, and I'm glad you think it was. You're correct in that guess._

 **CBloom2:** _I agree, that episode was miles better than ten of the love triangle based ones put together! Double yawn. I'm glad you enjoy this. Thank you for reviewing_

 **Sweeet-as-honey:** _Thank you for both your reviews on the last chapter and this one! That episode is heartbreaking, I agree, and Ethan in a paramedic outfit is definitely something to smile about. I'm really happy you like how I wrote Emilie's thoughts and made you smile! The ending is sad, I agree._

 **Tanith Panic** : _I'm very happy that you saw the gentle humor and enjoyed the way I wrote it. Really, thank you :) Emilie loves her boys, that's undeniable! Thank you for the review!_

 **Chapter 7) So She Did**

It was just how she remembered it.

The waves hitting the golden sand, the unmistakable salty smell of the sea lingering in the air. She smiled as she looked past the horizon, her mind flickering back to when her sons were young and the amount of fun they would have simply by being together.

 **Flashback:**

" _Steven!" her voice carried out across the wind, reaching her son as he quickly turned around, eyes wide with guilt. "Are you scaring your brother again?"_

" _I'm not!" Steven's words were the opposite of truthful. "He loves crabs!"_

" _No, I don't!" Michael put his hands on his hips, clearly annoyed. Steven giggled, bending down discreetly to pick something up. It was clear from Michael's expression that he didn't like what was now in Steven's possession._

" _Mummmm!" Michael squealed as he ran to his mother, his little legs rushing across the sand as his brother chased after him, crab in hand. Steven's face was a picture of deviousness, giggling as his brother ran into his mother's outstretched arms._

" _You little…" Emilie couldn't scold the boy, not with that happy look on his face. Instead, she pinched his nose lightly and pointed to a place for the crab to live. At first, Steven didn't want to oblige, but after the bribery of 'we'll get ice-creams if you put the crab back' he practically abandoned the crab within five seconds in his excitement._

" _Sorry, bubba." Steven bent down and stroked his brothers hair, still smiling. Michael's face was buried in his mother's cardigan, but he lifted it up as he felt his brothers hand. Slowly, he smiled and accepted the apology, taking his brother's hand and allowing himself to be dragged over to the rock-pools to hunt for starfish._

" _Hang on, don't you want-" The sound of a seagull interrupted her. "...icecream." A smile spread across her face as she watched the boys explore the beach. She leaned back, relaxing into the sand and leaving them be._

 _ **End flashback:**_

"I used to bring you here when you were children," Emilie started as soon as she'd broke free from her trip down memory-lane. Her sons smiled at her as she continued. "I sat here and watched you,"

Cal smiled a little as a memory popped into his head. He turned and looked at his brother with a small smirk painted across his face. "You still scared of crabs?"

"Wha...I wasn't scared!" Ethan replied defiantly, in a tone that suggested he was, very much.

"Yes, you were." Cal smiled. Ethan gave a little tut noise in response, turning away for a second before continuing.

"Well…" Ethan quickly defended himself. "They have pincers, they can nip!" They chuckled as the truth eventually came out. Looking out to the sea, they kept the smiles on their faces.

Ethan broke the short-lived silence. "Race you!"

"Oh…" Cal watched as his brother quickly got to his feet, rushing to the sand. He stayed for a millisecond as if he was too old to do such childish nonsense, before rushing after his younger brother, desperate to win. Emilie's heart hurt for a second as she watched them race each other and leave her, but it soon brought a smile to her face as she saw them together. It was amazing to finally see them happy.

When she died, either in an hour or maybe even a few minutes, she knew she'd be playing the memory inside her head numerous times until the angel of death came and took her away.

"Arghhhhh!" Her eyes looked toward the source of the noise. She couldn't help but laugh as her youngest ran away from his brother, arms flailing as he was chased by a small crab. Even from the ambulance where she sat, she could see the mischievous grin on her eldests face. It had stayed the same, identical to how it was over twenty years ago. It still made her smile and her worries fade away.

At least for a few seconds, anyway.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Slowly but surely, they'd walked across the beach path. It'd taken some time due to her wheelchair, but they made it.

The salty air rushed through her hair as she sat next to her Cal on the wooden bench, looking out past the safety railings to the beautiful sea. It was frightfully cold, so Ethan wrapped a blanket around her.

Cal pulled something out of his pocket, looking at it thoughtfully. Ethan's whole face crumpled when he saw it. Emilie soon recognized what it was. The letter from the clinic. The letter containing the results that could change Cal's life.

"You going to open it?" Ethan asked, eyes widening for a second. He was clearly terrified about the results, as was Cal. But their fear couldn't compare to Emilie's. She'd lived through the disease and knew how relentless and damaging it was. If they had it, she wasn't sure she could ever forgive herself.

Not like there would be time to, anyway.

"Mum wants to know," Cal told his brother, sounding slightly breathless.

"I wish you'd told me," Ethan admitted, shaking his head a little. "We should've done this together."

Cal's eyes shone with both guilt and fear, now. His expression looked extremely pained as he looked back at his little brother, shaking his own head as he reached into his pocket with a trembly hand.

"What?" Ethan asked, concern flooding over his expression.

"We did," Cal confessed, handing the letter over to Ethan cautiously as if it were a grenade.

"What is this?" Ethan questioned after a second of looking at the letter and gently running his thumb across the sides. He knew what it was, Emilie thought. He had to know.

"Remember that sample when we were trying to persuade Isaac Sanderson to have his bloods done?" Cal's voice was jerky and his breathing came out in short gasps. Emilie felt pain for him.

Ethan murmured a ' _no_ ' under his breath, no longer meeting his disconsolate brothers gaze.

"Well….I sent yours off to the clinic with mine," Cal's eyes were filled with regret as his brother's own brown ones snapped onto his. Ethan's mouth dropped open a fraction and he was speechless, hardly holding onto the letter. Emilie imagined if the wind tried to snatch it away, he'd make no attempt to retrieve it.

Eyes turning back to the letter, Ethan got to his feet, stumbling away from his brother. He reached the railing, turning back to his brother momentarily to give him a small look of hurt.

"Just rip it up and throw it away, Ethan." Cal said, trying to sound as supportive as Emilie knew he was. "If you want,"

The sound of silence spread across the area as further conversation failed them. Ethan stared out to sea, and Emilie knew he was trying his best not to cry.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After some time, they'd calmed down a little.

Ethan had sat in the wheelchair and was watching as Cal took unsteady breaths, fingers grazing across the letter.

Suddenly, Cal lost it and opened the letter hurriedly, before he lost his nerve, Emilie supposed. Her insides twisted as she waited in suspense ad it felt like the world's tightest belt was holding her captive. Ethan could hardly meet Cal's gaze, and Emilie didn't blame him. There was no anger between the two, it had gone. Just shy affection and the strong hope that they would both be okay.

The letter was open. It seemed like hours had passed but in reality it was only over a few seconds. Cal read it, lips parted, eyes scanning the page. Ethan was watching his brothers' expression intensely, trying to gather any clues.

"Yeah?" Ethan asked, voice jerky and unsure.

"Yeah," Cal responded, choked up. "I'm fine,"

Emilie let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in. A broad smile spread across Ethan's face as he congratulated his brother, offering a 'well done' and a genuinely glad response to the letter being negative for the gene. Cal's breath was now a bit calmer as he squeezed her tightly, a small 'it's all alright' sign, without saying the words, which she really needed. Reassurance. He kissed her forehead and held her head to his.

Within a few seconds, however, Ethan's face slowly sunk.

"Statistics…" Ethan said in a small voice.

"Screw the statistics," Cal said in a falsely firm voice. "Okay?" Ethan gave a tiny nod that could be easily missed. Cal tried to rub his arm, but eventually offered a "Do you want me to do it?"

"N-no, no, no, no," Ethan said, voice thick. "I'll do it,"

His fingers fumbled across the letter in the same way Cal's had done.

Emilie prayed his results would be the same as his brothers had been.

Sure, she'd been mad at God earlier, but right now she would willingly convert to any religion just so her youngest would also be okay and out of harm.

The letter was eventually unsealed, held out of Cal and Emilie's gaze as he read through it. For a split second, his face dropped and his eyes filled with pain.

Then an unsure smile spread across his face and he nodded. "I'm clear as well,"

Cal breathed out, reaching over to Ethan and putting his hand in his brothers hair. "Mate…" Emilie couldn't see Cal's face, but she knew it would have a big grin on it. "That's brilliant!"

Ethan gave Cal a smile, still looking shaky, but Emilie put it off to the coldness.

"Come on, let's put this back on." Cal turned his attention to Emilie, trying to put the oxygen mask her. She hadn't even realized her breathing had been slowing.

"No, no…" She struggled free from it, her quivering fingers remembering the little bit of paper in her pocket. She hadn't wanted to give it to Ethan before, just in case he opened up the letter and DID have the gene. Then, he'd have to look at that phone-number and wish he could call it. She had a feeling that her son, if he did have the gene, would never want to get involved romantically with anyone. The gene would always lurk in the back of his mind.

Thank goodness he didn't have to deal with that.

"Told you s-she liked you," Emilie smiled, passing the paper over to Ethan. He looked at it, confused for a second, before smiling too.

There you go, bro," Cal grinned, both pleased and proud. "Get in, mate."

Ethan laughed weakly, putting the paper in one safe hand while removing his glasses with the other. His eyes didn't meet Emilie's properly, until she began to speak.

"T-tell me a story," Emilie begun. She watched, her heart twisting, as a tear slipped down Ethan's cheek. "Y-you and Kate. What h-happens next?" Ethan smiled tearfully, eyes turning to Cal for reassurnace. Cal saw the signs and spoke for his brother.

"Erm...well, on the first date, she suggests they go and see a 3 hour movie with subtitles," Cal paused to laugh weakly with his brother. This was probably an inside joke that she wouldn't get, but it still made her laugh to see them genuinely smile. "And, er, he knows she's the one." Cal smiled. "And he proposes on the third date."

"We'd get married in a registry office," Ethan took over the story with new-found confidence. "Nothing fancy. Just friends, and the pub afterwards."

"Who's the best man?" Cal asked cheekily, clearly knowing.

"Oh...Cal's the best man, of course." Ethan smiled. "Then he makes a terrible speech. But he redeems himself afterwards when he tells everyone about you," He looked at Emilie kindly. "About us all meeting Kate in the cafe." He paused for a second.

"Go on," Emilie breathed. She could feel her breathing less frequent and just had a _feeling_ that she wasn't going to last.

If she was going to die, she wanted to hear the story, because she knew she'd never be a part of it.

"Okay...well, we'd buy a house in Holby. And then we have a little girl. We'd call her Emilie," Ethan looked at his mother for a second. "And the day she's born is the most incredible...and most terrifying day of my life. Well, she goes to med school-"

 _ **Flashback:**_

" _Good job," Emilie praised her youngest son. After intricately bandaging his teddy, she laughed at the way he stuck his tongue out. "You'd be an awesome doctor, baby,"_

" _Really?" Michael asked, smiling widely. "Okay!"_

" _Then, your kiddies can be doctors. And then when they have children, they'll be doctors too, and so on. Sound good?" Emilie laughed at her wild fantasy as her son hopped onto her lap._

" _It sounds good," He repeated, giving her a hug and admiring his teddy happily. She felt affection flood through her as her son nuzzled into her chest._

 _ **End flashback:**_

"-she becomes a doctor. And...eventually, she gets married-"

 **Flashback:**

 _Steven and Michael were giggling from the other room. Emilie shook her head, getting up to check on them. Goodness knows what they were up to. Last time she left them alone for more than five minutes, they'd smeared chocolate spread everywhere and had to have an emergency trip to the dentist. She was wary of cavities._

" _What on earth!" Emilie asked, hands on hips as she looked at her sons. Michael was dressed in a frilly frock that went way past his knees, a fascinator plonked on his head and lipstick smeared across his mischievous and giggling face. Steven had a far too big suit on and a tie wrapped around his head._

" _We're showing you...how you and Dad got married!" Steven giggled naughily. "I did Michael's mouth paint!"_

" _You mean lipstick, hun?" Emilie tried to stop herself smiling at their cheekiness but failed. "Very good,"_

 **End flashback:**

"- and she has kids of her own. Cal and I are doddery old men by then. Cal's on his fourth wife! But we come back here, every year-"

 **Flashback:**

 _It was their annual trip to the beach. Michael and Steven were whooping at the top of their lungs as they raced across the stony beach path, giggling as they overtook each other._

" _Careful!" Emilie called, but she was unheard. Her husband walked beside her, smiling after his boys._

" _Bless them," He said. "I hope they always get along that well."_

" _Me too," Emilie nodded. "I'd hate for them to grow apart,"_

" _I'm sure they won't," Her husband grinned and stole a kiss on her cheek. She swatted him away playfully, laughing._

 **End flashback:**

"-all together, on this bay. We look out at the sea, and we make a toast to you, and say...this is where it all began..."

The story was over. A small smile played across Emilie's face. Her breath was now in gasps.

It was time.

Her eyes were closed, she couldn't open them if she tried.

But that was okay.

She felt safe. Her oldest had his arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm and providing comfort.

Emilie began to count down her last breaths.

Three.

The wind caused a small shiver to run down her spine. She could hardly feel her body anymore, only a small sensation of cold and numbness.

Two.

Cal's arms were disappearing, letting her go. She felt as free as a bird about to fly from a nest. A little bit of fear was there, a 'please don't let me die' thought flashing up in her mind. Maybe she wasn't ready to die just yet.

One.

Her breathing halted gently. She didn't need to do it anymore. Only ghosts of words fluttered around her.

"Mum?"

She knew who said those words. Her heart was solaced by them.

Emilie _was_ ready to go.

So she did.

 **The End**

 **I wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone who has supported this, it means a lot as originally I wasn't planning on posting, but I'm glad I did in the end.**

 **I'm going to try and post more on here, maybe a continuation from this, but until then, goodbye! I hope you all have a good evening/morning (whenever you're reading this)! xx**


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